


Absolutely Positively Not

by keepingthemoon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Concerned Sheriff, Danny has a lil crush, Danny makes an appearance, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski UST, Eternal Sterek, Even though Sterek is life, Gen, Grocery Shopping, Humor, If You Squint - Freeform, Miguel - Freeform, No Slash, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pre-Slash, Socially Awkward Derek Hale, Sterek friendship, meddling stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepingthemoon/pseuds/keepingthemoon
Summary: Derek enlists Stiles’ help for a very important mission and Stiles is, well, Stiles.





	Absolutely Positively Not

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf or any characters. 
> 
> Originally posted on FF.net. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Are you busy?_

Stiles lifted his head from the bed and read the text. He rolled his eyes and huffed. What could Derek possibly want at seven o’clock at night?

He held his phone in the air above him as he replied.

_Yes, it’s Wednesday. Otherwise known as Beacon Hills party night._

Dropping it to the bed after he sent the message, Stiles sighed. In reality, he was almost drowning in boredom. Scott was supposed to have come over an hour ago to play xbox but had decided his night would be better spent with Allison.

Stiles rolled his eyes. As if going to a girl’s house for dinner was better than a night of epic xbox battles.

His phone buzzed. Stiles rolled onto his stomach and picked it up, reading the text.

_Pick you up in five._

Typical Derek. So demanding. And how did he know Stiles was at home anyway? He could party. He went out all the time.

Maybe not, like, that _often_ but what would Derek know?

_Um, hello, it’s a school night. I can’t have you whisking me away at such a late hour. I need my beauty sleep._

The reply was almost immediate.

 _Need your help_.

Ok, Stiles had to admit that perked his interest. What could Derek possibly need his help with? He usually preferred to do stuff by his own werewolfy self.

A thought occurred to Stiles and he sat up. It had to be werewolf business. Derek would never willingly ask Stiles for help with anything unrelated to the pack.

He grinned. Maybe his Wednesday night was looking up. Another alpha pack on the loose, perhaps? Maybe there was danger and the whole pack was patrolling and Stiles was going to help.

Not bothering to reply, Stiles jumped up from the bed, jamming his phone into the pocket of his hoodie.

He turned off the light to his room and started down the stairs two at a time.

He hesitated slightly when he heard the television from the living room, realising he’d have to go past his dad to reach the front door. Not that he’d sneak out without telling him, but his dad really wasn’t the biggest Derek fan. Well, actually, he was probably Derek’s _least_ favourite fan.

Stiles decided to be honest but brief.

He hurried past the living room. “Bye, dad! I’m going out, don’t wait up!”

He’d almost made it to the door when he heard the sound mute.

“Wait, wait. Where are you going?”

He sighed. _So close_. Backtracking his steps, he leant against the wall and shrugged.

“Derek needs my help with something.”

His dad raised his eyebrows from where he was sitting on the couch. “Derek Hale? The felon?”

“The one and only.”

“Stiles.” The sheriff sighed.

“Dad, he’s not _actually_ a criminal, you know.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “The charges were dropped.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing. Lots of guilty people get away with murder.”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to sigh. “You said it yourself. Animal attack. There’s no way it could have been Derek.”

The sheriff looked evenly at his son for a long moment. “Be home by midnight. Make sure of it.”

“Thanks, dad.” Stiles started towards the front door.

“Hold up a second.”

He sighed and popped his head back around the corner. “What?”

His dad raised his eyebrows at him. “You still got that can of pepper spray I gave you?”

“Actually no, I used it all last time I went out with Derek.”

“Stiles!”

“I’m just kidding, dad.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yikes.”

“Not funny.” The sheriff glared at him. “Now get out of here and make sure you come home in one piece.”

Stiles leant against the wall. “That’s kind of a contradictory statement because if I’m in two or more pieces there’s really no way I can make sure that I actually get home in one piece.”

His dad sighed in defeat. “Just go. Before I cut you up myself.”

Stiles grinned. “Bye, dad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He heard the sound on the television start up again as he flung open the front door.

Derek stood there, his hands in his pockets.

“It is so creepy how you just appear everywhere.”

The older man ignored him and raised his eyebrows. “Pepper spray. Really?”

“Lucky my dad doesn’t know you _could_ tear me limb from limb if you wanted to or he’d probably send me out with a shotgun.”

Derek glared at him. “Lucky me.”

“Hmm. Sarcasm.”

Derek turned and headed down the porch stairs.

Stiles shoved his feet into his shoes and ran after him, stumbling down the steps but managing to stay upright.

As they walked towards the Camaro, Stiles clapped Derek on the shoulder. “Alright, so what are we doing? Hunting an alpha pack? Going on a stakeout? Oh!” He clicked his fingers. “Is there a rogue werewolf?”

Derek was silent as they reached the car.

Stiles stopped at the passenger door and watched him as he walked around the hood to the driver’s side.

“Derek. Derek?”

Derek opened the door and looked at Stiles across the top of the car.

“Grocery shopping.”

He smirked and slid into the vehicle.

Stiles gaped. “Wha – really?”

He opened the door and bent over, staring at Derek incredulously.

“ _Grocery shopping?_ ” Stiles’ arms flailed of their own will.

Derek just raised his eyebrows.

“Are you serious?”

Derek placed a hand over his heart. “As a can of pepper spray.”

Stiles looked around the dark street, surveying his options, before falling into the car.

“You know what? Fine.” He clipped his seatbelt on roughly as Derek started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Not what I had in mind for my Wednesday night, but whatever.”

“Alright, what _did_ you have in mind?”

Stiles raised his arms. “I don’t know! Maybe have a shower, maybe study for the chemistry test tomorrow. You know, stuff that people who actually want to graduate from school have to do.”

“You don’t need to study.”

“My B minus in biology disagrees with you. So does my dad.”

Derek scoffed.

“He’s right to worry about me, you know. I don’t actually know you that well.” He looked over at the man. “Maybe you will cut me up.”

“Not me.” Derek turned into the reasonably empty parking lot of the supermarket. “I may leave you tied to a tree as a sacrifice for someone else though.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh, har har. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“It would give me some peace and quiet.”

“Uh, you’re the one that practically begged me to come with you.”

Derek turned off the car and looked over at Stiles. “I don’t beg. I’m sure I could have managed by myself.”

“You’re lucky I live so close to the supermarket then. We couldn’t have you buying food by yourself now, could we? The world might stop turning. It could symbolise the start of the apocalypse.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow at Stiles before climbing out and walking around the back of the car.

Stiles clambered out and they started towards the front of the store. “Ok, why exactly am I helping you do your grocery shopping again?”

“Pack meeting’s on Friday. Scott got stuck into me after the last one, said I needed to make them more exciting.”

Stiles nodded. “Food does that. Especially for werewolves and myself.”

“Exactly.”

“But why _me_?”

“Because. You’re probably the only person I know – werewolves included – that’s eaten every type of food known to man.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No. I’m calling you a pig. There’s a difference.”

Stiles jogged a few steps to catch up to Derek, who was trying to pick a trolley with four fully-functioning wheels.

“Remind me again why I agreed to help you?”

Derek raised his eyebrows but looked straight ahead as they walked through the doors. He knew as well as Stiles himself that the boy wouldn’t say no to helping with anything that could even _remotely_ be classed as werewolf business.

Stiles sighed. “Alright, so what do you want me to get?”

“Anything you think everyone will like.”

“Really?” Stiles pushed the front of the trolley and forced Derek down the snack aisle. “You couldn’t do this yourself? Don’t you eat junk food?”

“Not really.”

“Of course you don’t,” Stiles grumbled.

“I heard that.”

“That’s probably because you were meant to.”

Derek surveyed the soft drinks, not looking at Stiles. “You always say that. I think you just forget about my extremely sensitive werewolf hearing.”

A little old lady pushing a trolley past shot them a weird look.

Derek glared at her and she scampered away.

“Uh!” Stiles punched him in the arm. “Be nice!”

“What?”

“That poor, defenceless old lady. She’s going to have nightmares for the rest of her life.”

Derek held up two different cartons of soft drink for Stiles’ inspection. “Well, at least she won’t have to put up with them for long then.”

Stiles shot him a look.

“It’s her fault anyway. What’s she doing shopping at seven thirty at night?”

Stiles pointed to the case in Derek’s left hand and he placed it in the trolley.

“Probably the same thing we are.”

“Hosting a werewolf pack meeting? Unlikely.”

Stiles punched him in the arm again, immediately regretting it when his knuckles cracked. “Ow, ok, no, you idiot. I meant shopping for food.”

“Call me an idiot one more time – ”

“I know, I know.” Stiles waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth. You’ve worn that one out a bit, don’t you think?”

Derek pushed the trolley further down the aisle. “Actually, I was going to say you’re banned from coming on Friday, but whatever works for you.”

Stiles looked at his retreating back. “You can’t _ban_ me!”

“Yes I can. You’re not actually a werewolf.”

“I may not be but there’s no way you can say I’m not a part of the pack.”

Derek cocked his head and looked over his shoulder slightly at Stiles. “I can still ban you though. I’m the alpha, I can do what I want.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I can rip your throat out with my teeth if you prefer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Stiles repeated.

Derek didn’t bother answering.

Nothing would be keeping Stiles from this pack meeting. _Especially_ this one. A whole night of free food? He’d roll his deathbed there if he had to. If Stiles somehow lost his legs between now and then he’d drag himself there on his elbows. That’s how dedicated he was to food.

And to the pack, of course.

They wandered down the aisle, Derek leaning on the trolley and looking rather bored while Stiles picked out some of his favourites.

The trolley was almost half full already.

“Stiles.”

“Mmm?” He picked up two packets of lollies and inspected them closely before shrugging and chucking them both in.

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve already got enough and we’ve only done the drinks and sweets.”

Stiles shrugged. “Well there’s only really chips left to go. But speaking of drinks, I think we may need more.”

“How could we possibly need more?”

“We only got one sort.” Stiles looked at Derek as though it were obvious. “What if not everyone likes Coke?”

Derek sounded like he was reaching the end of the line. “Then I’ll make the next one BYO.”

Stiles sighed. “Fine. Grumpy old wolf.”

“We will need water, though.”   

Stiles backtracked a few metres and lifted a pack of bottled water from the shelf. “Water, check.”

He wandered a bit ahead of Derek and started browsing the many flavours of chips, picking one up before shaking his head and putting it back on the shelf.

Derek watched him woefully, really starting to regret even bringing Stiles.

He pushed the trolley level with the younger boy who, to Derek’s dismay, added six packets of chips to the load.

_Six._

Derek sighed in defeat.

He needed to get Stiles out of this aisle, and fast. “What about other food?”

Stiles looked at him. “What about it?”

“Not everyone eats as much garbage as you, you know.”

“Huh. Hadn’t thought about that.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“You’re right, though. For being a typical meathead jock Jackson seems to eat alright.”

“That too.” Derek nodded. “I was thinking more along the lines of dinner though. Pizza?”

Stiles eyed him appreciatively. “I knew there was a reason we were friends.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Stiles ignored him. “Of course, that means we’ll have to get garlic bread as well.”

Derek scoffed. “You seem to be forgetting you’re not the one paying for all this junk.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget.” Stiles headed out the end of the aisle and towards the freezer. “But you enlisted me for my help and so my help shall you receive.”

Derek looked around as he moved through the store a bit less enthusiastically than Stiles. Beacon Hills was not a huge place and so the supermarket was fairly small, yet still big enough to support the people of the town. Some of Derek’s old friends had had after school jobs there back in the pre-fire days when he’d actually had a relatively normal teenage life with a family and a circle of friends.

He came to a stop beside Stiles, who had become distracted by something on the way to the freezers. He eyed the back of the boy’s head as he rummaged through the shelves, muttering to himself about coconut and lamingtons.

Derek shook his head in puzzlement as he watched Stiles. As much as he had wished so many times his life could go back to the way it was before he lost his family, things were really looking up. He’d never have imagined just a month or two ago that he would have a pack of his own. And though he’d never admit it, he’d grown quite fond of Scott and all his friends until eventually Derek stopped referring to them as Scott’s friends and had instead started referring to them as _his_ friends. A feat he would never have thought possible.

Stiles threw a packet of some sort of chocolate and coconut covered cake fingers into the trolley and forged ahead without so much as a glance at Derek.

The alpha took a quick inventory of all the food in the trolley so that next time, there would be no need for him to bring help along. He could definitely manage it himself. And possibly save a hundred or so dollars in the process.

He caught up to Stiles again who was stopped in front of the frozen pizza section, his head cocked to the side as he glanced over at Derek. “How many pizzas do you think we’ll need?”

“Oh, _now_ you want my opinion?”

“No need to get snarky, Derek. Twelve should do it.”

“Only twelve?” Derek said sarcastically. “How many people do you think are going to be there?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Um, you are the werewolf here. You know how much they eat.”

He placed the meatiest-looking ones he could find in the trolley.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a light dinner and snacks. They’ve all got homes filled with food they can raid at any time. I’m doing this for free, remember? Because I’m nice.”

“Oh yes. Nice alpha. Good alpha.”

Derek groaned. “A dog reference? Really?”

Stiles just grinned and turned to head down the aisle before stopping abruptly. “Oh, look, it’s Danny!”

Derek followed Stiles’ gaze down the store and groaned. Sure enough, he spotted the young Hawaiian man studying the bread along the wall at the very end of the aisle. He felt another awkward encounter coming on.

Stiles grinned slyly. “You remember Danny, right?”

Derek just looked at him.

“I will take that as a yes.”

He hurried towards the unsuspecting boy and Derek followed slowly behind, much less enthusiastically.

“Danny, hey!”

He looked up from his basket at the sound of his name and smiled at Stiles before faltering slightly at the sight of Derek.

“Hey, Stiles.”

“You remember my cousin?”

“Yeah,” Danny hesitated. “Miguel, right?”

Stiles grinned. “Nice memory.”

Danny looked at Derek, swallowing visibly. “Good to see you again.”

Derek nodded once.

Stiles jabbed him in the ribs. “What Miguel means to say is that it’s nice to see you too, Danny.”

Derek sighed internally as his werewolf sight picked up on the faint blush on Danny’s cheeks. Never, ever again was he going to ask Stiles for help. Ever.

He glanced over at Stiles, who raised his eyebrows at him suggestively.

Ever.

Actually, Stiles would be lucky if he lived long enough to see the pack meeting on Friday.

Danny smiled awkwardly and looked between them. “So, uh, what are you guys up to?”

“Oh, you know, just doing some grocery shopping.” Stiles glanced at the trolley. “Miguel is the worst eater I have ever seen. He just _loves_ his carbs.”

Danny looked Derek up and down once quickly before glancing away. “Oh, really? You can’t tell.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, he’s in pretty good shape, huh? Lucky him, I’d kill for a body like tha – ”

Enough was enough. “Stiles!”

“What?”

Derek glared at him. “Don’t we have to be home by eight?”

“We do?”

“Yes. Uncle – ” Derek paused as he realised he didn’t know the sheriff’s first name, “ - Stilinski is waiting for dinner.”

Stiles snickered, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Uncle Stilinski?” Danny gave him a weird look.

“Miguel was pretty much raised in the military.” Stiles said, clapping Derek on the shoulder. “You know, so he’s real formal and all.”

“Right.”

Stiles nodded for about seven seconds, looking between the two before clapping his hands together. “Well, you heard him, Danny. We’re supposed to be home by eight, so I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, cool, I have to get going as well. Nice seeing you, Miguel.”

Stiles was so paying for this later. “You too.”

“Alright. Well, bye.”

Stiles grinned. “Later, Danny.”

Derek eyed him as Danny walked away.

“What?”

“You know what.”

Stiles looked at him innocently. “I don’t, I swear.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I had no ulterior motive this time.”

Derek glanced at Danny’s retreating back as he rounded the end of the aisle and went out of sight. “You like watching him squirm. For your own enjoyment.”

“Actually, I like watching _you_ squirm. Big bad werewolf gets uncomfortable at a little crush.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You are _so_ mature.”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion.” Stiles shrugged. “I think he’s got a crush on you. Who can blame him, really, I mean look at you. You’re just a big hulk of man. Right up Danny’s alley.”

“Stop talking.”

Stiles waved his arms helplessly. “And don’t get me _started_ on that jawline.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Sheesh, ok, sorry.” He was silent as he threw five double loaves of garlic bread in the trolley.

Derek pulled a face and waited until Stiles started walking ahead before he chucked two of them back into the freezer. 

He caught up with Stiles, the trolley unsurprisingly having a mind of its own, especially considering all the weight that was in it. The other boy was crouched down, inspecting several different varieties of cheese.

“Why on _earth_ would we possibly need cheese?”

Stiles glanced over quickly. “You know, crackers and cheese. Maybe a bit of cabanossi to spice things up - ”

“No,” Derek cut in, shaking his head, “I’m drawing the line right there.”

“At the cabanossi or at the crackers?”

Derek shot him an exasperated look.

“But why?” Stiles looked up at him and waved the packet of cheese cubes he was holding in the air. “Everyone loves crackers and cheese!”

“I don’t care. I am not hosting a party for a seventy year old man. There will be no crackers or cheese. And definitely no cabanossi.”

Stiles sighed dramatically but put the cheese back.

Derek looked at the full trolley in dismay. “I’m pretty sure we’re done now.”

Stiles stood up and joined him, pouting. “I guess so. If you want to limit your culinary experiences to that of what teenagers eat, that is.”

“Well I am feeding a pack of teenagers so that would make sense. And it’s not like I’m going to eat any of this garbage anyway.”

Stiles jabbed him in the arm. “You’ll eat the pizza.”

Derek glared at the offending finger and pushed the trolley forward. “Pizza is not garbage. Pizza is a food group.”

“Oh, yes, because it’s so good for you.” Stiles rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Derek shrugged.

He staggered to the side slightly as Stiles perched himself on the front of the trolley.

“Stiles, get off.”

“I don’t want to.”

Derek frowned. “You are such a child.”

They rounded the end of the aisle and headed towards the checkouts, Derek pulling the trolley into the queue behind another one. Stiles hopped off, whistling a tune Derek was sure he’d never heard in his life.

There would be a little bit of a wait, being only one checkout open, but Derek didn’t mind. He liked to think he wasn’t one of those pesky customers who whinged every time they had to wait more than ten seconds to be served. It was almost right on eight o’clock at night in the middle of the week; he didn’t expect there to be several checkouts open anyway.

Plus, the young cashier looked polite and friendly, chatting away happily to the customer being served in front of them.

Derek placed the divider behind the last person’s groceries as they moved down the belt and began organising their items into groups.

Stiles stood leaning on the handles of the trolley, his phone resting in front of him, undoubtedly – Derek rolled his eyes – texting Scott. The two had some sort of weird, unbreakable bond. Kind of like brothers, except they actually put up with each other.

They were silent for a minute or two until Stiles shoved his phone back into his pocket and began browsing the confectionary stands conveniently placed beside the checkout to lure innocent victims into purchasing their diabetes-inducing products.

He chucked a Mars bar onto the belt before thinking for a moment and adding another one.

Derek raised his eyebrows. “And what are those for?”

“Well one’s for me, obviously. As a payment for the awesome services I have provided tonight. And the other one’s a gift from me to you.” He grinned. “Except you have to pay for it, of course.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“I forgot my wallet.”

“No you didn’t, I can see it sticking out of your pocket.”

Stiles grinned. “Oops.”

Derek sighed before moving the two bars closer to the other sweets, choosing not to notice Stiles’ smirk in his peripheral vision.

“So let me get this straight, the chocolate is a present from _you_ to _me_ , but I’m the one that has to pay for it? Doesn’t seem like such a great gift.”

Stiles grinned. “And yet look at you _not_ putting it back. Admit it, you do eat junk food.”

“Very rarely.” Derek glared at him. “Happy?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Stiles poked him in the side. “Can’t have you getting flabby, though. Danny might not like you as much then.”

Derek rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to once again tell Stiles to _shut up_ when a throat cleared slightly behind them and Stiles turned around, meeting Danny’s eyes.

“Oh, Danny, um…hey?”

The boy shifted awkwardly and held up the bottle in his hand, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Forgot the milk.”

“Right, right. Happens to me all the time.”

Danny nodded like he didn’t believe him, avoiding eye contact with Derek at any cost.

“Actually,” Stiles turned to Derek and hit him on the arm. “I forgot something.”

“What?” Derek threw a handful of junk onto the belt. “No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. That thing.”

“Stiles, what thing?”

“That thing I told you about.” He backed away from Derek, his eyes briefly flicking over to Danny. “I’ll be right back.”

“Stiles!”

The boy disappeared around the corner.

Derek sighed and turned back to the trolley, mumbling under his breath. “Idiot.”

He heard a small chuckle and looked up to see the checkout girl looking at them. To her credit, she simply smiled and greeted Derek, who returned it politely.

He waited a few moments, awkwardly not looking anywhere near the other boy, while space was made on the end of the belt.

“He’s like that at school too, you know.”

Derek looked to his left to see Danny watching him.

“Oh, uh, yeah. He’s very…”

“Unique?” Danny smirked.

“I’m pretty sure there’s not even a word for him.”

The other boy chuckled. “It’s kind of adorable.”

Derek pulled a face as if that was the most distasteful thing he’d heard all day. “He’s not adorable. He’s crazy.”

He lifted the cartons out of the trolley and placed them on the belt, pushing the now-empty trolley through to the other end.

Danny put his bottle of milk on the belt as Derek’s groceries moved forward.

They stood in silence for a few moments, Derek loading the bags into the trolley and wishing Stiles would hurry up and get back from wherever he had conveniently disappeared to.

“So, uh, what do you do?”

The boy’s voice was curious and Derek thought quickly, replying with the first thing that popped into his head. “Uh, I’m a mechanic.”

Technically that wasn’t a lie. He did all the work on his beloved black Camaro himself.

Danny nodded. “Oh, cool.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, trying to fill in the awkward silence. “What about you?”

“Um,” Danny looked at him oddly, “I go to school with Stiles.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Stupid. And here he was thinking Stiles had to be around to be made a fool of. They were silent from then on; the only sound the rhythmic beeping of the cash register that stood between them, a mediator of sorts.

Stiles burst around the corner as the girl was scanning the last couple of items through. Derek gaped at him as he placed a toothbrush on the belt.

The girl picked it up and scanned it.

“A toothbrush. Really? I’m not paying for that.”

She paused, the toothbrush hovering over the bag.

Stiles made a face and motioned for her to put it in. “Dental hygiene is very important, De- Miguel.” He glanced at Danny for a split second. “Plus, dad asked us to do the grocery shopping, remember?”

Derek clenched his jaw. “Fine.”

He huffed at the large ‘$4.99’ written next to it on the screen. Of course he just had to pick the most expensive one on the market. Stiles was _so_ going to pay for this.

“Is that everything?” The girl looked between Derek and Stiles, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

Stiles opened his mouth, but Derek beat him to it.

“Yes. For the love of all things good, yes.”

“Hey, wait a second.” Stiles grabbed Danny’s bottle of milk and passed it to the cashier. “Put this one on, too.”

“Oh no, it’s fine – ” Danny started to object as he shook his head.

“Seriously, Danny, it’s all good. He doesn’t mind, do you Miguel?”

Derek was sure that, had he been a cartoon, there would have been smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Nope.”

Stiles cracked a grin as Danny started to object. “It’s just a couple of dollars, Danny. Don’t worry about it.”

The boy hesitated as he looked at Derek, unsure. “Ok. Thanks.”

Derek nodded stiffly before turning to the girl.

“That’ll be $184.92.”

Derek let his head fall to the side and looked at Stiles, who just shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

He swiped his card, gave a resounding ‘no’ to cash out, and entered his pin.

The girl handed him the receipt and he thanked her, wishing her a good night and dumping the last couples of bags in the trolley.

He turned to Stiles and Danny, who were chatting quietly, and tuned into their conversation.

“Miguel was just telling me he’s a mechanic.”

Stiles clicked his tongue and winked at his friend. “That’s him. Very good with his hands.”

Derek really couldn’t help it. Stiles had had it coming all night, really. He lifted his hand and smacked Stiles across the back of the head, ignoring his loud protests.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“What can I say, I’m good with my hands,” Derek retorted sarcastically.

“Very funny, wise guy.”

Danny stood awkwardly off to the side, reaching out to take the milk Stiles passed to him.

“Well, uh, thanks for this. Again.”

Derek nodded and Stiles grinned. “No problemo, Danny-boy.”

 “Cool. See you tomorrow, Stiles. Bye, Miguel.”

With a wave, he turned and walked out the door.

Stiles smiled and sighed happily, as if satisfied with his evening’s work.

Derek ignored him and pushed the trolley through the doors, leaving the fluorescent lighting and the horrible encounters trapped in the building.

Stiles laughed as he saw Danny turning on his car and pulling out of the parking lot. “I had no idea he was standing right behind me, I swear.”

Derek smirked as the automatic doors closed behind them.

Stiles glared. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew he was there!”

“Of course I did. I _am_ a werewolf, as you like to keep reminding me.”

“You sneaky little – ”

Derek held up a hand. “Stop right there. You needed a taste of your own medicine, and that’s exactly what you got.”

“Ahhh,” Stiles drawled. “Nicely played, Mr. Hale.”

Derek unlocked the car and began loading the bags into the boot. “What’s with the toothbrush?”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “I couldn’t go back with nothing after I made a big exit saying I forgot something.”

“Wait.” Derek looked at him strangely. “So that ‘thing’ you took off to get was really just a way of getting out of there?”

Stiles frowned at him as though it was obvious. “Duh.”

“Right. And you just _had_ to grab a five dollar toothbrush? You couldn’t just get a fifty cent packet of gum?”

He placed the last bag into the car as Stiles stood demolishing his Mars bar. “Well, I actually do need a new toothbrush, so it worked out quite well.”

Derek rolled his eyes and closed the boot. After returning the trolley to the bay, he climbed into the car, where Stiles was sucking caramel off his fingers.

“You are so gross.”

“Eh, it’s all part of my charm.”

Derek started the car and scoffed.

“So. Where to now?”

“Um, home.” He pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed towards the sheriff’s house, ignoring Stiles’ pout.

“It’s only quarter past eight!”

“Yes, but Uncle Stilinski needs us home by eight, remember? So we’re already late.”

Stiles snorted as Derek pulled into his street. “I can’t believe you said that. And in front of Danny, too.”

Derek rolled his eyes, once again glad for the extremely short trip between Stiles’ house and the supermarket. He just wasn’t sure how much more of the boy he could handle in one night.

“Well thanks for asking me, Derek. Believe it or not, I actually quite enjoyed myself.”

“So I see.”

“Come on, you had fun too.” Stiles hit him on the arm as Derek pulled up in front of his house.

Derek glared at him. “I spent _two hundred dollars_ on junk food!”

Stiles scoffed. “It was _not_ two hundred dollars. And on the plus side, I have a new toothbrush.”

“Oh, yeah.” Derek said sarcastically. “I’m now two hundred dollars poorer, but hey, that doesn’t even matter because at least Stiles has a new toothbrush. I can sleep soundly tonight knowing that.”

“I knew you’d come round. Atta boy.”

“One more dog reference and I take your precious toothbrush home with me.”

“Bite me.”

Derek unbuckled his seatbelt. “That’s it – ”

Stiles scrambled to open the door. “That one was _completely_ unintentional, I swear! I had no control over it!”

Derek eyed him dangerously.

“Let me keep my toothbrush. Please?”

Derek sighed as Stiles did that pouty thing he seemed to love so much. “Fine. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Get out of my car right now and don’t let me see you a second before seven o’clock on Friday night.”

“Aww. Don’t I even get a ‘thank you’?”

Derek shook his head. “No. Definitely not.”

“Admit it, you like my company.”

“Get out of the car, Stiles. I can still ban you from coming.”

“You do that and I’ll text Danny your number!”

The alpha hesitated and Stiles laughed. “Bye Derek! See you Friday!”

He jumped out of the car and ran up the short driveway in a hurry, as if he was expecting Derek to be coming after him. He waved, grinning, at the front door before disappearing inside the house.

Derek scowled as he pulled away from the curb. He didn’t care if they ate bread and jam at the next pack meeting. Even better, they could go hungry.

He was never asking Stiles for his help again. Ever.

Absolutely positively not.


End file.
